TOC: Operation Perseus
by Secret-Agent-Omega
Summary: As Parliament decides to resume the hunt for River Tam and the crew of Serenity, a mysterious stranger seems intent on thwarting their plans. In a time of perilous unrest, Good and Evil will clash – and the fate of humankind will hang in the balance.
1. New Year's Resolutions

**Title:** TOC: Operation Perseus

**Author:** Secret-Agent-Omega

**Overall Genre:** Action/Adventure; Suspense

**Overall Rating:** M for reasonable probability of adult themes and definite occurrence of violence.

**Overall Pairings:** Mal/Inara, Simon/Kaylee, Zoë/Wash's Memory, possible Jayne/River.

**Overall Location on Firefly Universe Timeline:** Approximately four months post-BDM.

**Overall Spoilers:** Reasonable probability of eventual series spoilers (details currently unavailable) and definite occurrence of BDM spoilers.

**Summary:** As Parliament decides to resume the hunt for River Tam and the crew of _Serenity_, a mysterious stranger seems intent on thwarting their plans. In a time of perilous unrest, Good and Evil will clash – and the fate of humankind will hang in the balance.

**Disclaimer:** The people, places, and plentiful paraphernalia you know and love/hate are the property of their respective owners, namely Joss Whedon, his associates, and any groups which control or are controlled by said individuals. No profit is made by the author of this work of fiction from the creation or distribution of said work, nor is any infringement intended. Plagiarism is considered a serious criminal offense, and punishable by law. Please ask before redistributing this work.

**Length without header:** 5 page(s) at 12-point Times New Roman font; 1,863 words; 11,704 characters including spaces.

**Feedback:** Some authors don't care about feedback. I am not one of those authors. Giving feedback tells me that you took the time to read it and cared enough to comment on it. Receiving feedback is a wonderful thing, and every author should experience it.

**Notes:** The new main character is an original creation of mine, although many of the concepts embodied are not in themselves original. There will be a number of subtle (and not-so-subtle) jokes and references in this story, and not everyone will understand them all; if you have a question, let me know and I'll do my best to answer it. There is a possibility that future chapters will reference media content located on my website; if they do, directions on the nature and location of the content will be located in this section.

**TOC: Operation Perseus**

By Secret-Agent-Omega

Chapter 1: New Year's Resolutions

_"All that is required for evil to thrive is for good people to stand aside and do nothing."_

_- Unknown_

_Milky Way galaxy; system Tau-Helion-Xray-1138; planet Osiris; outskirts of Capital City; Venus Prime Corporation storage facility 04-017 – January 1st; 2519; 03:14:33.2295 hours (Londinium New Greenwich Mean Time plus 2 hours)_

Somewhere in the industrial sector, far removed from the elegant steel-and-glass high-rise towers of the main city, an unmarked shuttle set down on the rooftop landing pad of a nondescript gray warehouse.

The shuttle hatch opened, and a lean, muscular man in a courier's uniform exited out into the chilly predawn air. Closing the hatch behind him, the man walked quickly towards the access stairwell door and reached for the keypad with a gloved hand. Upon entering a code, the door opened with a loud click, and the man stepped inside.

Descending several flights of stairs, the man removed a keycard from his right jacket pocket and waved it in front of the sensor by a door marked 'Maintenance Personnel Only', from which the dull sounds of machinery could be heard emanating. The door unlocked with a soft ping and he pulled it open, the red light from within briefly illuminating his imposingly chiseled features before the door swung closed behind him and locked again.

The hall beyond was long and straight, with security cameras placed at each end to watch the opposing doors. Mounted in the high ceiling were speakers which broadcast various ambient mechanical and electrical noises, a sophisticated detection grid for picking up concealed recording or tracking devices, and several retracted laser turrets. The man made his way to the featureless metal door at the other end, replacing the keycard in his pocket and removing his right glove. Pressing his palm to a wall-mounted scanner, the door slid open silently and the man entered a darkened room.

As the door sealed itself behind him, the lights gradually flickered to life. The room was rather plain at first glance, its simple layout concealing elaborate security measures which fortified it against all known forms of surveillance. Racks of weapons and equipment covered the right-hand wall, while a large computer terminal occupied the left. The man crossed to the terminal and tapped the center of the main touch-panel.

"Please provide voice confirmation.", a soft female voice asked.

"Mary was a little girl, whose life was not her own, for everywhere that Mary went, she never was alone.", the man stated in a rumbling bass.

"Voice confirmation accepted.", the female voice replied. "Welcome, Parliament Operative Delta-One."

Delta-One ignored the computer's formality and tapped a sequence of commands into the terminal, remotely accessing a secure server and pulling up a large directory of files. He tapped the first file, and a synthesized voice began to dictate a pre-recorded audio message, while data in a number of different formats filled the screen.

"_Parliament Operative Delta-One, approximately four months ago, the crew of the Firefly-class transport ship _Serenity_ willingly participated in treasonous activities against the Alliance. These activities included aiding and abetting known fugitives River and Simon Tam, resisting and fleeing the previous Parliament Operative Delta-One, breaking safety quarantine on the planet Miranda, destruction of Alliance property, endangerment of Alliance personnel, and circulation of subversive propaganda. Despite a report by the previous Parliament Operative Delta-One that River and Simon Tam were no longer a threat, it has been decided that River Tam is still a viable candidate for certain projects. Your primary objective is to locate and retrieve River Tam, alive and intact, for immediate reprocessing. Your secondary objective is to locate and retrieve Simon Tam and the crew of _Serenity_ if possible for eventual sentencing by criminal trial. If retrieval is deemed impossible or impractical, termination is authorized, with a necessary force limit of category two. The heavy cruiser IAV _Fearless_ has been reassigned to assist you in your mission, and is waiting at the rendezvous coordinates provided. Included with this briefing are all files relating to River and Simon Tam, the crew of _Serenity_, and the transport ship itself. As always, should you be compromised, captured, or killed, Parliament and the Alliance will disavow any knowledge of you and your actions. This concludes your mission briefing."_

Delta-One closed the file and tapped in another sequence, bouncing back a reply.

_Mission briefing received and understood. Will rendezvous with IAV _Fearless_ in two-and-a-half hours. _

Reply sent, Delta-One placed a blank data node into a port on the terminal, and began downloading a copy of the file directory for review on route to the _Fearless_.

Turning to the opposite wall, Delta-One slipped out of his disguise and selected a standard suit of formfitting black full-body armor. Donning the one-piece garment and fastening the hidden seals, he checked his range of motion and found it to be satisfactory. The armor was flexible and lightweight enough not to interfere with close-quarters combat, yet tough enough to stop a direct hit at point-blank range from a Callahan Arms M-44 assault rifle.

In all likelihood though, it would not be necessary. Unlike the previous Operative – whom he had worked with on several occasions – Delta-One disliked the notion of obtaining results through politely menacing conversation. Instead, he opted to terrorize from a distance, slowly working targets into a frenzy, until they ended up running headlong into a carefully-constructed trap.

Slipping his courier uniform back on over the body armor, Delta-One removed a long case from one of the racks, opening it to inspect the item which had been delivered to the safe house a few hours earlier.

Inside was Delta-One's preferred weapon – a 54-R sniper rifle equipped with a high-precision scope, chambered for 7.62x51 millimeter armor-piercing rounds. At slightly over a meter in length, he could pick the bars off a captain's epaulettes from 500 meters away.

Satisfied that everything was in order, Delta-One replaced the rifle in its case and turned back to the computer terminal, where the file directory had just finished copying to the data node. Encrypting it with a high-security rotating algorithm, he removed the node from the port, placed it in his left jacket pocket, and set the terminal back on standby.

Picking up his weapon case, Delta-One exited the safe house and headed for the roof.

-0-

Unlike the majority of Alliance citizens on Osiris – who were either beginning, engaged in, or winding down from New Years' revelry – Delta-One cared little for the current state of planetary festivity.

But, like Mary in his perversion of the classic children's rhyme, Delta-One was not alone.

41.62 kilometers northeast of the warehouse lies the border of Redstone Forest, a 264.35-square kilometer tract of greenery popular with core-bred citizens of the outdoor persuasion. 5.34 kilometers further into the forest is Arklay Mountain, an impressive backdrop against the night sky that reaches a maximum height of 532.69 meters above sea level.

On an isolated bluff 29.37 meters from the summit, a solitary figure clad entirely in black lay prone between two rocky outcroppings. Wearing boots, jeans, a turtleneck sweater, and a long trenchcoat, the figure held in gloved hands a sophisticated-looking five-foot-long sniper rifle, and peered from behind a face-obscuring helmet into the scope.

Finishing a visual sweep of the building and surrounding area, the figure reached up to the controls, cycling from density-penetrating t-wave through standard magnification and back to night vision, then adjusted the zoom, bringing the access stairwell door back into crisp detail. Still watching through the scope, the figure contemplated once again the utter predictability of the situation.

Despite the report filed by the previous Operative, members of Parliament had decided to send yet another one after River Tam, and by extension, her brother Simon and the crew of _Serenity_. Given the nature of the project Parliament intended her for – had intended her for all along – their determination was understandable, and to their credit, they were making a rather tenacious attempt by most people's standards.

However, most people did not have the resources to stand against the full might of the Alliance, and the achievement of this particular goal by Parliament simply could not be allowed. Thus, the figure maintained a silent watch over the warehouse, waiting for the target.

Roughly fifty-three seconds later, the wait was over. Delta-One emerged from the access stairwell and onto the rooftop, unaware that also like Mary, his life was no longer his own.

Knowing that even on the weapon's lowest setting the Operative's full-body armor would offer no protection, the figure zeroed in on the target and pulled the trigger.

_PYEEOFFFFF_…

Almost forty-seven kilometers away, Delta-One was dead before the rifle case could fall from his grasp. Adjusting the zoom control slightly, the figure noted with clinical detachment the success of the headshot, then stood up. Brushing off the grit which had collected from lying in the same spot for over three hours, the figure took a moment to review the implications of the action just taken.

In the grand scheme of the mission, terminating the Operative at this early juncture had not really been necessary. It could have been delayed for quite a while, and in truth, about six hours from now Parliament would simply give the job to the next in line. Furthermore, while it was certainly fun to play lethal whack-a-mole with the Alliance's professional assassins, it was far more advantageous to do so when those who required protection were in plain sight and not four worlds away.

But there was a greater purpose in the Operative's death: it would rattle Parliament.

Despite all security precautions, a special agent trained to be supremely cunning, lethal, and resilient had been killed – and less than half an hour after receiving an extremely high-priority assignment. Parliament would make the connection, and the possibility of a traitor in their highest echelons of power would send them on a witch-hunt, leaving them paranoid and vulnerable.

Meanwhile, the data node in the Operative's left jacket pocket was the next priority. Very little scared governments more than having their dirty secrets exposed, and it was easier to show Parliament an object over a communications channel than to convince them of the truth – that their 'secure' server had already been accessed and copies of the files obtained.

The figure smiled faintly behind the helmet. There was still a long way to go before the operation was complete, but when it was, the universe would be a safer place.

-0-

Two hours later, when Delta-One did not make the rendezvous with the IAV _Fearless_, a team was dispatched to investigate his last known whereabouts.

Half an hour after the team was dispatched, the corpse of Delta-One was discovered near his shuttle on the warehouse rooftop, rifle case lying as it had fallen. The data node was nowhere to be found.

Two hours after the discovery of Delta-One's fate, an encrypted report was transmitted to Parliament, detailing the preliminary findings of the team.

An hour and a half after the report was transmitted, another Parliament Operative was designated Delta-One and given a similar mission briefing; identical except for a footnote regarding the circumstances of the late Delta-One's demise.


	2. Myriad Impossibilities

**Title:** TOC: Operation Perseus

**Author:** Secret-Agent-Omega

**Overall Genre:** Action/Adventure; Suspense

**Overall Rating:** M for reasonable probability of adult themes and definite occurrence of violence.

**Overall Pairings:** Mal/Inara, Simon/Kaylee, Zoë/Wash's Memory, possible Jayne/River.

**Overall Location on Firefly Universe Timeline:** Approximately four months post-BDM.

**Overall Spoilers:** Reasonable probability of eventual series spoilers (details currently unavailable) and definite occurrence of BDM spoilers.

**Summary:** As Parliament decides to resume the hunt for River Tam and the crew of _Serenity_, a mysterious stranger seems intent on thwarting their plans. In a time of perilous unrest, Good and Evil will clash – and the fate of humankind will hang in the balance.

**Disclaimer:** The people, places, and plentiful paraphernalia you know and love/hate are the property of their respective owners, namely Joss Whedon, his associates, and any groups which control or are controlled by said individuals. No profit is made by the author of this work of fiction from the creation or distribution of said work, nor is any infringement intended. Plagiarism is considered a serious criminal offense, and punishable by law. Please ask before redistributing this work.

**Length without header:** 4 page(s) at 12-point Times New Roman font; 936 words; 5,563 characters including spaces.

**Feedback:** Some authors don't care about feedback. I am not one of those authors. Giving feedback tells me that you took the time to read it and cared enough to comment on it. Receiving feedback is a wonderful thing, and every author should experience it.

**Notes:** Railguns are awesome.

Chapter 2: Myriad Impossibilities

"_The Rail Gun fires depleted uranium slugs at super high velocities. Take note of the distinctive blue corkscrew trail of smoke caused by the projectile – or better yet, see how many scumbag Strogg it goes through before it hits concrete."_

_- Arsenal overview for the Rail Gun, Quake 2 owner's manual_

_Milky Way galaxy; system Tau-Helion-Xray-1138; planet Londinium; downtown New Camden; Carlton Café – January 1st; 2519; 06:44:52.8663 hours (Londinium New Greenwich Mean Time)_

Stepping out of the sleek hovercar and onto the curb, the man paused for a moment to observe his surroundings. At six-forty-five in the morning, the first rays of sunlight were starting to peek over the horizon, igniting the low-hanging morning clouds in shades of pink and gold. However, the man had far more important things to do than enjoy the scenery.

Turning back to the hovercar, the man rapped on the driver's window.

"Keep the engine running."

Entering the café, the man surveyed the room briefly before locating his employer at a small table in the back, cutting bites out of a small filet mignon. Nervously straightening his tie, the man considered his predicament.

His employer was an extremely powerful man, and if even half the rumors about him were true, then he was also not one to take disappointment well.

These facts did not bode especially well for the man, since he had some rather disappointing news to deliver. He tried not to think about what sort of punishment his employer would devise for those directly at fault.

Attempting to appear casual as he walked towards the table, the man mentally reviewed his report.

In truth, there wasn't much to say. Delta-One had been assassinated from a distance that shouldn't have been possible, by a shooter that couldn't be identified, using a weapon that didn't exist. Even worse, the data node he had copied sensitive files to as part of his standard operating procedure was currently unaccounted for.

"Smith."

His employer's greeting snapped Smith back to the present, and he hastily plastered on a weak smile.

"Sir."

"I thought I told you never to interrupt me during breakfast."

Smith sucked in a quick breath.

"Actually sir, you told me never to interrupt your breakfast unless it was _urgent_."

A muscle twitched in his employer's jaw.

"I stand corrected. It is... _urgent_... then?"

Smith nodded slowly.

His employer closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them and nodded to the chair directly opposite.

"Sit."

Smith sat down in the chair indicated.

"Report."

"Delta-One has been terminated. The data node he was carrying is missing."

"How?"

"Shot in the head, although it wasn't terribly difficult to figure out with his head splattered across the landing pad."

Smith's employer paused ever so slightly, the tender chunk of steak speared on the end of his fork suddenly seeming less appealing. Setting the fork down, his employer reached for a tall glass of orange juice, took a sip, then set it down and dabbed at his mouth with a napkin.

"I see. Any leads on the shooter?"

Smith shook his head.

"No sir. The only possible firing position given the direction and angle of the shot was a bluff near the summit of Arklay Mountain, approximately forty-seven kilometers away. We checked satellite surveillance logs of the area for the time forensics estimated, but found nothing."

Smith's employer raised an eyebrow.

"The logs showed nothing?"

"No sir. There _were no logs_ for that time period."

"Were there any signs of erasure or tampering?"

Smith shook his head again.

"No sir. The logs were never there to begin with, or so the computer claims. It almost seems as though the surveillance satellites were programmed not to record during that time period, but there are no records of any commands to that effect being received."

Smith's employer removed the piece of beef from his fork with a deft stroke of his knife, and reached to pick up a forkful of eggs benedict.

"Quite the puzzle. Any theories as to what weapon was used?"

Smith gulped. The implications of what he was about to say were terrifying at best.

"Judging from the composition of the slug remains found by the team and the relativistic speed it appears to have been propelled at, the only conceivable explanation is a handheld railgun."

Smith's employer paused yet again, then set his bite of egg down on the side of the plate and looked at Smith with something between amusement and annoyance.

"You _do_ realize that's impossible? Railgun technology can't be scaled down to a handheld size due to the weight issues, power requirements, and recoil physics."

Smith managed a small nod.

"I've read Thinktank's analysis of the subject, and I'm not doubting their expert opinons... but with all due respect, sir? There's an Operative in a morgue with his head blown off who says Thinktank is wrong."

Smith's employer narrowed his eyes at his employee for a moment, then smiled faintly and gave a curt nod.

"Thank you, Smith. That will be all."

Smith got up quickly, and with a quick 'yes sir', turned and exited the café to reenter the waiting hovercar, which slid softly away once he had shut the door.

Smith's employer watched him depart, then turned back to his breakfast. Dumping his forkload of eggs, he stabbed the small hunk of forsaken meat and held it up to eye level for a moment, studying it carefully before placing it in his mouth and swallowing it whole.

That was quite a lot of nothing to report, the employer thought. Quite a lot of nothing indeed.


	3. Ships in the Night

**Title:** TOC: Operation Perseus

**Author:** Secret-Agent-Omega

**Overall Genre:** Action/Adventure; Suspense

**Overall Rating:** M for reasonable probability of adult themes and definite occurrence of violence.

**Overall Pairings:** Mal/Inara, Simon/Kaylee, Zoë/Wash's Memory, possible Jayne/River.

**Overall Location on Firefly Universe Timeline:** Approximately four months post-BDM.

**Overall Spoilers:** Reasonable probability of eventual series spoilers (details currently unavailable) and definite occurrence of BDM spoilers.

**Summary:** As Parliament decides to resume the hunt for River Tam and the crew of _Serenity_, a mysterious stranger seems intent on thwarting their plans. In a time of perilous unrest, Good and Evil will clash – and the fate of humankind will hang in the balance.

**Disclaimer:** The people, places, and plentiful paraphernalia you know and love/hate are the property of their respective owners, namely Joss Whedon, his associates, and any groups which control or are controlled by said individuals. No profit is made by the author of this work of fiction from the creation or distribution of said work, nor is any infringement intended. Plagiarism is considered a serious criminal offense, and punishable by law. Please ask before redistributing this work.

**Length without header:** 3 page(s) at 12-point Times New Roman font; 907 words; 5,592 characters including spaces.

**Feedback:** Some authors don't care about feedback. I am not one of those authors. Giving feedback tells me that you took the time to read it and cared enough to comment on it. Receiving feedback is a wonderful thing, and every author should experience it.

**Notes:** For those who are probably wondering: yes, the original characters ARE in this story; I just had to get some things out of the way before I reintroduced them. It's a big system, and there's bound to be exciting stuff happening even if Mal and his crew aren't around to liven things up. Rest assured, our big damn heroes will make their appearance in chapter four. Also, all ship measurements are given in length-width-height format.

Chapter 3: Ships in the Night

"_Da-dum… da-dum…"_

_- Opening notes, "Jaws" theme_

_Milky Way galaxy; system Tau-Helion-Xray-1138; 2,751,364.52 kilometers from planet Osiris; bearing 085.74 mark 11.29 – January 1st; 2519; 08:29:52.3762 hours (Londinium New Greenwich Mean Time)_

The _Wellington_-class dreadnought IAV _Columbus_ sailed majestically through the cold emptiness of space on route to Sihnon, her primary ion drives propelling her at a rather brisk 75,268.31 kilometers per hour.

At nine hundred and seventy-five meters by three hundred and twenty-five by two hundred and ten, she dwarfed almost every other ship in existence with the exception of _Dortmunder_-class deep-space cruisers and certain planetary settling vessels. Driven by four class-three ion engines, the _Columbus_ was one of the fastest in the 'verse, second only to the slightly more well-endowed _Washington_-class. Bristling with thirty-six heavy laser turrets, eight ion cannons, six missile batteries, and a turret-mounted dual railgun, the _Columbus_ possessed enough firepower to completely overwhelm virtually any opponent in one-on-one combat.

Captain Alexander Brighton reflected on all this for a moment as he surveyed the endless field of stars out of the forward bridge windows. His crew had been on extended patrol for three months, and the lack of new scenery was beginning to wear on everybody's nerves. They were all looking forward to some well-deserved shore leave, and for those with family on Sihnon, a chance to see familiar faces.

Brighton paused at this thought and smiled. His parents were long dead and he had no wife or children, but there was a certain fiery-haired Companion at house Madrassa whose company he always enjoyed. He made a mental note to look her up later that evening and see if she would be free in another week when he was planetside.

Snapping out of his reverie, Brighton called to the navigational officer on duty.

"Lieutenant Christian, status please."

The young man swiveled in his chair and snapped a sharp salute, bumping his cap back slightly to reveal a shock of golden hair.

"On course and in the green, Captain. We should be in Sihnon orbit roughly 163 hours from now."

"Excellent. Anyone else in my sky?"

"No sir. Solitary sailing as far as the eye can see."

"Good, good; that's what I like to hear. Carry on. Oh, and lieutenant?"

The blond officer turned back to his superior.

"Yes, captain?"

Brighton winked.

"You don't have to salute every time I ask for a status report."

Lieutenant Christian blushed scarlet. "Yes sir. Sorry sir."

Brighton nodded, then turned on his heel and headed for his ready room, chuckling inwardly. Lieutenant Christian was young and rather inexperienced for a navigational officer, but the boy had a mind for numbers if ever there was one. He could shave hours off an arrival time when everyone else would swear it couldn't be done, and between his keen eyes and the _Columbus_' cutting-edge sensor suite, the lieutenant could spot a ship on the horizon before Brighton himself.

And that was saying something, the captain thought as he keyed in his personal code, since he had always had a sixth sense about when they weren't alone.

-0-

956,427.31 kilometers astern of the IAV _Columbus_ and closing fast, a second ship sliced stealthily through the night.

Measuring four hundred meters by two hundred by fifty, it was not a vessel that most would describe as small or unobtrusive. However, despite a clear line of sight and the rapidly dwindling distance between them, the crew of the _Columbus_ was unaware that they were being overtaken.

Aboard the second ship in a dimly lit room, a figure watched the rapidly-growing form of the _Columbus_ displayed on a large screen.

Reaching out a black-gloved hand, the figure typed a command on a console.

_(Copy data from remote source.)_

Data in a bewildering variety of formats scrolled across a series of smaller screens: crew profiles, cargo manifests, mission briefings, status reports, personnel logs, and much more. Moments later, the screens went blank and a message appeared.

_(Remote source data copy complete.)_

The figure typed another command.

_(Search all copied data for matches or possible references to 'Firefly'-class ship 'Serenity' or known crew members after August 2518.)_

An instant later, another message appeared.

_(No matches or possible references found.)_

The figure smiled inwardly at the search results. Parliament was compartmentalizing information as expected. This would make the mission far easier.

Looking once again at the form of the _Columbus_ on the larger screen, the figure contemplated how simple it would be to destroy the Alliance vessel without ever firing a shot. It was such a fragile ship, the figure thought; it would be so easy to seal their doom... to make it look like an accident.

On the other hand, orders were orders, and the figure had been given very specific guidelines regarding the rules of engagement.

And so, with that thought, the figure turned and left the room, the brief ray of light from the opening doorway casting undulating shadows as it played around the figure's long, black trenchcoat.

There was still much to be done.

-0- 

Twelve seconds later, the second ship passed within a kilometer of the IAV _Columbus_ and accelerated away, leaving the Alliance vessel and her crew in eager anticipation of arriving at Sihnon in a week's time.

Twenty-three minutes and forty-eight seconds later, the second ship slid quietly past Sihnon. The planet's orbital surveillance grid, even more advanced than that of the _Columbus_, detected nothing.


End file.
